


Only You

by behzaintfunny



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/pseuds/behzaintfunny
Summary: Also known as -- "How Xabi nearly plotted a genocide on Scousers mid 2004".Inspired by Jamie Carragher saying the word look.





	Only You

All Xabi has been doing since the arrival at Melwood is politely, or not quite so politely, correcting the staff, pure Scousemen, that "no, that's definitely not how you pronounce Xabier, thank you very much", and it's been getting on his fucking nerves.

The guy performing the medical is a kind man, a genuine person, and it's clear he tries, but he fails at it awfully nevertheless. The _Xabier_ rolls off his tounge like he were saying _shabby-er_ , but in a very peculiar way. And Xabi's English is lacking, sure, but he doesn't want to be shabby, does he now? He manages a forced smile nonetheless out of pure tact, just because it is expected of him. He later signs the contract and bites his tounge harshly when it's announced on tv and radio that _Shabby-er Alonso_ has indeed signed for Liverpool football club.

He hopes it will only get better from then on, oh God he does, but he hasn't even met any of his teammates yet. He's aware that a lot of them are Scousers, others are English and will, too, probably butcher his name. The only reason why his teeth aren't clattering yet it's because of the remains of his dignity.

He meets Carra first, in the changing room. He's sweaty and smelly, and his accent is the most appalling thing he's ever heard, but he tries. Carra is a good guy, asks how awfully he handled the pronounciation and smiles when Xabi teaches him how to say it correctly. Well, somewhat correctly. Carra is a very overwhelming personality, he thinks, and when other players start emerging into the room from the training fields, Xabi sighs tiredly. He meets Sami Hyypia and his accent is something he's never been met with before, but it's interesting, fits his persona, pleasant to the human ear. Vladimir Smicer is an odd guy, with a thick eastern european accent Xabi can't quite pinpoint. His job at attempting to pronounce Xabi's name is the best one so far, though. The Spaniard awards him with a genuine smile and a pat on the shoulder solely out of habit, but apparently it is not what Smicer is used to, considering the most awkward smile he managed back. The next person to introduce himself to him is Djibril Cisse, and _oh God_ Xabi has always struggled to understand a French accent. Cisse tries his best to engage Xabi into a conversation about what magnificent tradition the club holds, he does, and Xabi smiles politely and tells him he has to introduce himself to others. The next few faces go by rather quickly - Michael Owen does a fine job at not killing the Spanish language, John Arne Riise doesn't attempt to say his name at all, Jerzy Dudek can't quite get the X sound right but gives him a bear hug instead, and Diouf ignores him completely. Most of the players in the changing room have either left for the showers or left altogether, so the Basque sits down on a cold abandoned bench and relishes what just happened. He hides his face in his hands and groans ostentatiously, unsure what the intentions of the noise were exactly. Carra is the only one left in the room and Xabi had already established he's a friend. Suddenly, Cisse grabs his duffel bag up from the floor and Carra steals one last look in the mirror before bidding Xabi farewell.

Xabi allows his head to fall back and hit the cold tiles on the wall. His heart is pumping with adrenaline and his head is full of annoyance. He shamefully lets his stupid pride take over, because the logical think to do would be to ignore them completely and accept being _Shabby-er_ , since he is going to be called that for however long from this day on.

Melwood is quiet, too quiet. Xabi glances at the entrance from which the players had appeared from. Surely if he had been invited into the facility he's obliged to explore it freely, right? He stands up swiftly and with a sigh, the red colored walls already eating him up from the inside and getting straight into his heart, and opens the door to step outside and onto the training ground.

The sun flashes him in the eyes, the green of the grass is overwhelming, but it is quite a sight for sore eyes. It's quiet there, too, save for the sound of birds chippering, people bickering far away in the distance and a man shouting.

"That's enough, Gerrard! You've been here long enough already, all the team have left!"

Xabi raises an eyebrow. He looks to the right, where the sounds are coming from, and notices the beauty of the facility in its fullest, and alongside it an angry looking old man accompanied by a younger one, way younger, dressed in the familiar red, practising his dribbling.

Ah, so that must be Gerrard.

Who's Gerrard?

Whoever this Gerrard is, Xabi can't hear his reply to the older man, but whatever it is, it made the trainer go back into the building. Gerrard looks down at his boots and exhales heavily, exhaustion like a noose around his neck readying to be pulled tight, but not quite. And when he looks up at the sky, there's a broad smile painted on his face, childish almost, one to be cherished and to be remembered. At the back of his head, Xabi notes that Gerrard has the most beautiful smile he's ever laid eyes on. The moment doesn't last, though, and the red clothed man resumes his training as though he had never been interrupted in the first place. The ball moves under his feet with ease, he controls it with his legs like they've been carved for that exact purpose. He's toned and fit, easy to look at, long legged and bathed in sunlight. Xabi doesn't know when or why he started walking towards the occupied man, he only registers it and falls out of his trance when Gerrard abruptly sends a ball that ungraciously hits him in the knee.

And he doesn't look remotely sorry.

"Hello! Didn't see you there, la'!" Gerrard laughs and walks towards him. _Lies_ , "I didn't expect no company around this time of day. Especially if said company is dressed formally and stiff as a stick."

"I-- I was just--" Xabi stutters.

_He fucking stutters._

"Forgot your tounge, have we?" Gerrard enquires, grin on his face.

"My name's Xabi Alonso."

"Of course it is," Gerrard rolls his eyes and bends down to pick up the ball, "If you wanna get into the first team, first things first you gotta handle a pass, not try to woo me with the fancy clothes and the good looks."

Xabi's thoroughly stunned. Gerrard is still laughing.

"The name's Steven," Gerrard _\-- Steven --_ announces, "Stevie, if you stop shaking and start working with me."

 _You have a nice laugh, Steven -_ he wants to say. Instead, he says nothing, just smiles unsurely.

Steven throws the ball up in the air unceremoniously will all due strength. Xabi looks up to meet it with his eyes and, instinctively, handles the falling ball with his right foot.

"That's more like it!" Steven cheers and claps enthusiastically, "Now, have you any decent clothes so we can continue, or do we have to look into Ginge's locker for spare ones?"

Xabi has no idea who said Ginge is and shakes his head in confusion. Steven drops the ball and makes way for the changing room energetically. Xabi barely manages to follow behind. Once they're inside, Steven punches an already beaten up locker in the corner of the room, opening it without any due struggle. There's a pair of abandoned boots thrown away on the floor, so Xabi makes way for them, relieved that it is in fact his size. He's going to have to seriously thank someone later, solely for developing the perfectly sized feet. Meanwhile, Stevie manages to take out a pair of worn shorts and a bright red shirt, identical to the one worn by himself. He inspects it carelessly, sniffs at it out of sheer curiosity, and hands it over to Xabi, who's still quite literally stunned.

"We make do." Gerrard shrugs and sits down, cue for Xabi to get a move on and start changing, "Say what about good old Ginge but the man smells nice! Wouldn't expect that from him, would ya now?"

Xabi's hands only just about make way for the fastenings of his button up shirt when he asks, "Steven, are you sure we're allowed to be there at this hour?"

Steven looks up at him vigorously just as Xabi slips on the tight crimson attire, "Haven't I told you to call me Stevie? Stevie! My pops calls me Steven."

Xabi shrugs, focusing his attention on tightening his shorts rather than on his cheerful companion, "I'll try remember that, I promise."

"It's really not that hard, Xabi."

There it is! His name.

And _boy_ , does Xabi suddenly praise Carra's woeful pronounciation in his head, because this was _atrocious_ and _dreadful_ in ways more than one.

Xabi winces unwillingly, hoping it would be left unnoticed by his lively companion who's constantly panting for air and waiting patiently, and slips on his shoes.

"You haven't even answered my question, Stevie." he points out.

"Fair," Stevie mutters, gesticulating wildly as per usual, "Technically, the training session is over, yes, but who are those people to stop me from doing what this place's purpose is? Besides, it's not going to be long."

Xabi's tying his shoelaces hurriedly when he notices the huge contrasting band hugging Stevie's left bicep.

Right. He should've guessed, really.

"Who are they to deny the captain's will, no?"

Stevie smiles gently, "You're one quick learner, Xabi Alonso."

And Xabi is far too gone in silently admiring the beauty of Stevie's smile to even remotely react to how he just single-handedly murdered the Basque and Spanish tounge.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for quite a while now but I'm feeling a little stuck at the moment tbh. Nevertheless, I'm happy with the first chapter and excited to develop this idea!  
> the chapters are gonna be longer i promise this is just a Start  
> Feedback much (much!!!) appreciated! <3


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